The Aeducan Throne
by Sarah1281
Summary: When Bhelen's sister returns, he can't quite believe she really intends to help him retake their family throne. He accepts her help, all the while trying to figure out what game she's playing and waiting for her to give her support to the usurper instead.


The Aeducan Throne

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Bhelen Aeducan, Prince and soon-to-be King of Orzammar, liked to think of himself as a rather practical man. He would be hard-pressed to find anyone who thought that arranging for the murder of his brother and the exile of his sister was by any means moral, but how else could he – not even the second son but the _third_ – be in any position to bring about the change Orzammar needed?

And it did need change, of that he had no doubt. Just a week or so before he became the heir to House Aeducan, he had found the mother of his son, Rica, in tears because her little sister had won a proving hosted in the Grey Warden Duncan's honor, then had been spirited away by the two dozen guards that had swarmed her. It had been a year since then and the fact that there had been no word meant that Sereda was probably dead. It was such a waste. Casteless or no, a fighter talented enough to beat the best would have been a valuable asset against the darkspawn.

Not that he could say his motives for seeking the throne were entirely altruistic, of course, but he had no doubt that he would be a stronger King than either of his siblings. Trian looked down on everyone who he felt had a lower station than him – which, given the way he treated his own royal siblings, was everyone but their father – and he made sure that they knew it, too. He was a staunch traditionalist who would have changed nothing, much to their father's approval. As much as Bhelen loved his father, he disagreed with many of his policies and was well-aware that people try to make changes when they first come to power and then spend their older years fighting to keep everything exactly the same.

As for Aunn…she might have made a decent Queen, but she lacked the dedication to the job. She had been reasonably excited at her first command post, but was far more interested in sneaking off for a tryst with her second or plotting to convince their father to let her join the Grey Wardens. She didn't make a habit of actively looking down on the lower castes, but as their father's favorite she had been so sheltered that she knew virtually nothing about them. Her rule would have been better than Trian's, but he knew he could do better.

It may have taken years, but hadn't the day he'd finally managed to eliminate both of his rivals in one move proven that he was, in fact, better-versed in dwarven politics than his entitled brother or glory-seeking sister? The only snag in his plan was that his father refused to believe Aunn was anything more than an innocent victim in his plans. Sure, he was willing to have her exiled – after practically throwing her at the Grey Wardens – but that was because he, like most dwarves, viewed the throne of Orzammar as the Aeducan throne. And why wouldn't they? A single House holding the throne for nine (soon to be ten, he reminded himself) generations was unheard of. Still, while his father may have understood what he did and even reluctantly went along with it, that didn't mean he was forgiven by a long shot. Bhelen could live with that, he'd given up more for the chance to be King.

The problem, then, was the fact that since he was the only remaining potential heir and had irrevocably proven himself to be far more dangerous than he looked, his father had been paying much more attention to him than ever before. In doing so he had discovered that Bhelen was far less interested in tradition than either of his siblings. It wasn't that he **hated** it, by any means, and as it happened the tradition that kept the Aeducans on the throne was one that was very dear to him. Rather, he saw very clearly that Orzammar was dying a slow painful death and had been since the first blight, when his own noble House had been formed.

Some traditions, cherished though they may be, had to go. The fact that the population of the nobility and the warrior castes were so low that casteless women like Rica could become 'noble hunters' with very little outcry and yet Dust Town was perpetually overcrowded and getting more so was a travesty. As Aunn had proclaimed to their father during one of their final arguments about her joining the Grey Wardens when he had said it wasn't fitting for a Princess to gallivant about playing Grey Warden, "the darkspawn aren't going to care who kills them." One would think that letting the dusters in on some of the carnage would both help with the overpopulation of casteless and keep noble sons safe, but would anyone see past the indignity of granting the casteless the right to die with honor? No one but the Legion of the Dead. No wonder they were on his side.

Then there was the issue of surface trade. Twice a year. The merchants from the surface were allowed into Orzammar twice a year and were only permitted to peddle their wares if they applied a make-shift brand so everyone would know that they were surface casteless. Yes, tradition dictated that those on the surface had turned their back on Orzammar by leaving but were all those restrictions really any way for the economy to grow? And he needed the economy to grow if he wanted to keep the merchants on his side and be able to fund his planned retaking of territory from the darkspawn. When was the last time that had happened?

Alas, his father had merely taken one look at his slight lack of enthusiasm when it came to tradition and decided he was unfit to be his heir. The sending Bhelen away from his deathbed, he could understand. Their father had never been as fond of him as he was of either Aunn or Trian and he had deprived Orzammar of both. The plotting to hand over the throne to a _Harrowmont_ of all things, he could not. It was somewhat interesting to note that being considered guilty of fratricide wasn't enough for his father to reject him but questions about how much stock he placed in tradition was. It wasn't like his father nor Harrowmont had anything concrete, only suspicions.

With his father dead three weeks, he should be King by now. He WOULD be King right now if it hadn't been for that usurper. So what if he had been his father's loyal friend and adviser for longer than he'd been alive? He was still trying to deny him of his birthright and steal the Aeducan throne and if his father had been thinking clearly and not so overcome by grief, he never would have supported it. Tragically, Harrowmont's insistence that he had promised his father that Bhelen would not assume the throne was enough to keep the question of succession still undecided. Of course, since he highly doubted his father made Harrowmont promise that an Aeducan not take the throne, he did wonder why Harrowmont wasn't looking for another candidate among the Aeducans. Not that that would have worked, of course; since Trian and Aunn had ceased to be factors, the rest of his House had thrown their weight behind him. Even if they did have issue with him, the only other option was giving the Aeducan throne to a House that had never held it.

Harrowmont's supporters were much less loyal than his own were. A handful of them honestly believed Harrowmont's claims that his father did not want him to succeed him. As it happened, he halfway believed that, too. Was it enough to keep him from his birthright? Not even close. The majority of Harrowmont's support came from jealous nobles who saw this as the first chance in generations to put another House on the throne. They did not expect Harrowmont to be a strong ruler and he was so old they fully anticipated the usurper succumbing to illness or old age (or poison) within a few years and leaving the field wide open.

Rica kept telling him that she believed in him and to some degree she did but he could see how afraid she was. She thought that if he lost then he would end up getting himself killed and she was probably correct. Should the Assembly do the unthinkable and go with Harrowmont, he would not accept that and his supporters were all ready and willing to stand with him. The only way he would accept defeat were if he was dead and Rica could very well end up back on the streets of Dust Town with a formerly noble infant to support. It wouldn't come to that, though, as his support was stronger than Harrowmont's and his claim less tenuous. Frankly, it would probably take a Paragon to secure the usurper the throne and Bhelen knew that not even that would stop him – another tradition he ignored. The only possibly living Paragon was a questionably sane smith who had made it more than clear she had no interest in politics. Why should she have the final say? Not, of course, that he would oppose it if she showed up out of the blue to support him.

Still, all this cultured debate was starting to wear his patience thin. One would think that people who lived under constant threat from the darkspawn would take organized darkspawn who had started to lead increased and more intelligent raids more seriously, but no. They were just grateful that the darkspawn were harassing the surface and giving them time to settle the question of succession. Why they didn't seem to remember just how well leaving allies to the darkspawn had worked out for them in the past was beyond him.

There was a knock on his door then.

"Come in," Bhelen said, knowing full well that Vartag was the only one who both could and would disturb him unannounced.

Sure enough, Vartag swept into the room. "Your sister's back," he said without preamble.

"I don't have a sister," Bhelen said automatically. It was true, in a sense. Aunn had been wiped from the memories and as far as _tradition_ went, that meant that she no longer existed. It was a bad omen either way as some of Harrowmont's supporters had started to spread around the story that he had killed Trian and if Aunn were smart she would take advantage of that to try and get herself reinstated. Although why she was back or how she was even alive were a mystery he would have to rely on Vartag to clear up.

"She's a Grey Warden," Vartag explained. "She says she wants to help you retake your throne."

Well, it seemed she'd gotten what she'd wanted after all. "And you **believed** her?" Bhelen asked incredulously, not sure what to make of this uncharacteristic and rather foolish optimism from his second.

"Not at first, no," Vartag replied, shaking his head. "But she asked how she could prove herself so I gave her those forged Harrowmont papers to deliver to Lady Dace and Lord Helmi. She didn't have any problems delivering the papers to Lord Helmi but Lady Dace, predictably, refused to make a decision so Aunn had to go all the way down to the Aeducan Thaig to track down Lord Dace."

"I'm sure that brought back some pleasant memories," Bhelen murmured. So the Helmis were back on his side? Good. The Helmis had always been very strong Aeducan allies, but since had Trian lived he would have married one of them and whoever she was likely would have ended up Queen, they weren't pleased with how things had turned out, to say the least. The Daces were less important and almost openly jealous of the Aeducans, but their support would still prove valuable.

"Indeed," Vartag agreed. "Her companions were a little put-off by the idea that the documents were forged, but she pointed out that Harrowmont was buying votes and that seemed to appease them. They do look like they'd rather be anywhere else than here, though."

"There are reasons we keep outsiders out of politics," Bhelen declared. "So Aunn cleared that problem up for me? Interesting."

"Whatever her reasons, she did come through for you." Vartag seemed to hesitate before soldiering on. "Of course, she also won the proving you held in your late father's honor."

"In Harrowmont's name?" Bhelen asked sharply. That would prove embarrassing and he wasn't sure what she could hope to gain by that. The proving was far too public a venue to keep what happened a secret and half the point of swaying the Helmis and the Daces to his side was so they would spread the word about Harrowmont's 'treachery' so there was no keeping that a secret either.

"No," Vartag sounded almost amused. "In the name of 'What Part of BLIGHT Don't You People Get.'"

"That certainly sounds like her," Bhelen sighed. "And it could be worse, I suppose. Even if she didn't win in it my name, at least she didn't win it in the usurper's and since she has already aided my cause people will ultimately see that as a victory for me."

"She wants to see you," Vartag informed him. "Should I arrange a meeting?"

Bhelen honestly considered the question. What did one say to one's big sister that they had set up to take the fall for kinslaying and gotten cast out to die in the Deep Roads? Then again, if he refused to meet with her she might very well turn to Harrowmont.

"That would probably be a good idea," he said finally.

- -

Aunn came alone, which was probably for the best. If her companions, whoever they may be, were disquieted but such basics as bribery and forgery, they would not handle it well when things like 'fratricide' and 'regicide' inevitably came up.

His currently non-existent sister – another problem he had with tradition: how could one look a dwarf in the face and insist that they didn't exist? – looked much the same as she always had. Her long blonde hair was done up in two braided buns and she had on just a little too much green eye shadow. She had traded in her Aeducan armor for what appeared to be Dragon Scale armor, but given she had left Orzammar in rags that was understandable.

Bhelen stood to greet her. "Well, who would have thought? My big sister, back from the dead and calling herself a Grey Warden. I could hardly believe in when Vartag told me that you wanted to help me retake the throne."

Aunn looked him straight in the eye. "Tell me the truth: did you kill Father?"

He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that she asked him that. Still, why would he? Although silencing their father before he got a chance to jeopardize his chances of becoming King would be convenient, if both of his rivals for the throne AND the King himself were all out of the picture so close to each other…by the stone, their father had hung on for a whole year and people were still pointing fingers his way. Not to mention that he didn't want to set the precedent of killing monarchs given that he would be one soon. "Father died of grief," he said shortly. "He couldn't bear to live without you."

Aunn cocked her head. "You sound jealous." Her innocent tone was belied by her slight smirk. "Really, little brother? You send me off to die and you're _jealous_ that Father liked me better?"

"I don't see why you're complaining," Bhelen told her, crossing his arms. "You got what you wanted, didn't you? You're a Grey Warden."

"I suppose that's true," Aunn allowed. "Although I'm sure that wasn't your intention. How do you know it was just losing me that did it? Trian actually died, you know."

"Trian's death could not reasonably be called his fault," Bhelen pointed out. "He could have easily prevented your exile and he had no way of even knowing if you were alive or dead."

"If he was really all that concerned than maybe he should have thought about that before throwing me out of Orzammar," Aunn sniffed. "I understand why he did it, though; Father was old and there's no way the scandal would have died down before his death if we were all implicated."

"Father quickly changed his mind," Bhelen said wryly.

Aunn reached into her pack and pulled out a neatly folded letter. "So I gathered," she said, holding the note out to him.

Intrigued, Bhelen took it. When he unfolded it, the unmistakable sight of his father's handwriting greeted him. "Where did you get this?"

Aunn closed her eyes. "Gorim gave it to me along with the Shield of Aeducan when I ran into him in Denerim."

Bhelen waited for her to go on but it appeared she was waiting for some prompting on his part. Resigned, he asked, "And how did that go?"

Aunn's eye flew open. "He got married!"

"Unmarried people do that," Bhelen told her flatly.

"But this was only three months after I was exiled!" Aunn burst out. "And I know he left awhile after I did because father evidently had time to fall ill and begin to waste away before he went to the surface! What, did he marry the first surface girl he saw?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if they were after him," Bhelen replied. "He was a fine warrior from Orzammar after all and from what I have heard of surface men they are…not."

"And they were expecting a child, too!" Aunn complained. "I mean, how does 'I will always love you' translate into getting hitched and on the fast-track to parenthood three months later?"

Bhelen shrugged. "I suppose that's what you get for dating beneath you."

Aunn arched an eyebrow elegantly. "If dating a warrior was so beneath me than what do you call having a child with that casteless girl?"

"Definitely **not** dating," Bhelen said firmly. "If people started thinking that then I might actually lose more support than you've gained for me."

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Just read the damn letter."

Bhelen glanced down.

_Aunn,_

_Perhaps you will burn this letter unread. For that I would not blame you. But I would not return to the Stone without saying this to you: I have seen what Bhelen is. And when I saw it, I knew I had been a fool. For only a fool would cut out his own heart and burn it for the sake of appearances. I never believed in your guilt. I allowed you to be exiled because I feared an inquiry into Trian's murder would taint our house with scandal in the eyes of the deshyrs and cost our family the throne._

_But I have saved nothing by this sacrifice: I sent my only child into an uncertain exile. Know that whatever you do now, you bear all the honor and pride of House Aeducan._

_-Your Father_

"His only child?" Bhelen asked, annoyed. "And after he just mentioned me, too."

"My friends took 'I have seen what Bhelen is' to mean that he realized that you killed Trian," Aunn said slowly. "But he came right out and said he never thought I was guilty."

"Then what do you think it means?" Bhelen challenged.

"Simple," Aunn smirked. "He found out about your allergies."

"I wish you wouldn't refer to it like that," Bhelen said irritably.

"Would you rather I outright told people that you hate tradition?" Aunn countered.

"I don't **hate** tradition," Bhelen tempered.

"Really?" Aunn was skeptical. "Name one tradition you don't actively hate."

"The tradition of the throne staying with the Aeducans," Bhelen answered promptly.

"I kind of like that one, too," Aunn admitted. "Did you know that ever since I stepped foot in the city, people have been trying to get me to tell them that you killed Trian?"

"And have you?" Bhelen demanded, trying not to sound overly anxious. This could prove problematic.

Aunn shook her head. "Of course not. You already have enough problems between that and the rumors that you killed Father. I don't need to add to them by _confirming_ any of it and I'm not a very unbiased source."

"Do you believe I killed Father?" Bhelen wasn't sure why he cared. Maybe because if she did she might change her mind and side with Harrowmont. Of course, in that case she wouldn't be very open about it, now would she?

"No…" Aunn began hesitantly. "It's strange, but for all Harrowmont's supporters are crying poison and for all I think they could be right, they all agree that Father sent you away before he died. While they think that both of these are possible, I disagree. You either had the opportunity to poison him _or_ Father wouldn't let you anywhere near him when he died. Harrowmont, however…"

"You think Harrowmont poisoned Father?" Bhelen asked. That was an idea and one he admittedly hadn't thought of.

Aunn nodded. "Apparently his official stance is that Father died of natural causes. He's being careful not to point fingers, but with the way everyone's claiming I was framed and now they think you killed our King…it's definitely causing problems."

"I can't see him coming up with something like that on his own," Bhelen remarked. "But I don't think I would put it past Father, actually…"

"And I am officially remembering why I wanted to run off and join the Grey Wardens," Aunn announced.

"Well, you can get back to that as soon as this is over with," Bhelen assured her. "How do you feel about slaughtering the carta in Dust Town?"

"You know," Aunn said thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "I don't think I've ever been to Dust Town."

"It will be…an experience," Bhelen said, almost wishing he could be there to see her reaction to how the other half lived, so to speak.

- -

When Aunn returned, still alone, she looked as though she'd seen a ghost.

"Why don't these people rise up and kill us all?" she asked.

"Lack of equipment, the only organization they really have finds crime more profitable, and a complete lack of hope and ambition," Bhelen answered.

"I had a bag that went missing a few years back, you know," Aunn continued as if she hadn't heard him. "I think I saw part of it on the armor of one of the carta people I killed."

"They have to get the armor from somewhere and Ancestors know they don't have the money to buy any and most merchants wouldn't sell anything to them anyway," Bhelen reasoned.

"There was this guy who had been in Jarvia's prison since before she even took over!" Aunn exclaimed. "He said he and his friend Sereda had been locked there since Sereda won a proving and they killed Jarvia's predecessor."

"Is Sereda still alive?" Bhelen asked, surprised that Rica's sister's fate was about to become clear at last.

Aunn looked a little startled that he even cared. "No. The guy said that she just stopped eating one day, all for a stupid bet. I guess I really can't blame the girl, though. I mean, Beraht died even before Trian did."

"I see," Bhelen said neutrally, making a note to let Rica know. At least now she could stop wondering. "And did you have any problems with Jarvia?"

"All those traps kind of annoyed me, but not really," Aunn replied. "That armor merchant, Janar, had a secret passage to the carta in his store. He seemed to think I made the hole in his wall so I doubt he had anything to do with them but how in the world they managed to use it without him ever noticing is a little beyond me. Then again, given that he seemed to think it was plausible for me to create a giant hole in his wall while he was standing a few feet away without him noticing, I'm guessing he's not the most observant guy around."

"News has already spread of your success, you know," Bhelen informed her. "Everyone is most impressed that I managed to wipe out the entire carta with only four people and three of them weren't even dwarves."

Aunn must have been annoyed at him claiming credit for her victory because her next words were, "I've been wondering something, little brother. That whole mess with Trian…I can kind of understand why you'd kill him because he always seemed like the kind of person who _would_ get murdered, but why pin it on me? What did I ever do to you?"

Bhelen rolled his eyes. "Oh please. You would have moved against me soon enough if I hadn't beaten you to it, just like you turned the Assembly against Trian."

Aunn snorted. "That was less any brilliant maneuvering on my part and more Trian stabbing himself in the foot with the way he couldn't even **pretend** not to think everyone else was beneath him. Although that does leave me wondering why Corra was so fond of him…"

Bhelen considered asking who this 'Corra' was but then realized that he really didn't care. "Be that as it may, I wasn't about to risk ending up like Trian."

Aunn stared at him. "But you're the one who had him killed."

"And once that happened you would have seen me as a threat and taken action against me," Bhelen concluded triumphantly.

"I never needed to move against Trian and I wasn't planning on moving against you either," Aunn declared. "I was far more interested in being a Grey Warden than in obtaining the throne."

"Then you should thank me," Bhelen replied simply. "Father never would have allowed you to neglect your responsibilities like that but thanks to me you got exactly what you wanted."

"Yes, thank you ever so much for getting me exiled," Aunn deadpanned.

Bhelen wondered if this was going to be a problem. He was fairly certain the new support he was garnering from Aunn's little massacre would be enough to push him over the top and win him the crown. Just the same, Aunn could decide to be difficult or change her mind at the last moment because she was annoyed he exiled her or she decided she did want to be Queen after all and thought she could convince the elderly Harrowmont to make her his heir once the Blight was over. Knowing how much the usurper had always favored her, she probably could.

"There's one more thing you could do that would secure me the crown," Bhelen said slowly. "What do you know of the Paragon Branka?"

"She used to be a Smith but she invented a smokeless fuel that greatly increased production and decreased deaths. She played at being a noble for six months but she thought we were all so vapid that the minute she heard talk of the Anvil of the Void she took her entire House save her husband with her to the Deep Roads and hasn't been seen for two years," Aunn promptly rattled off.

Bhelen blinked. "You're…well-informed."

Aunn shrugged. "I spoke with her ex-husband. After this election was settled, we were actually planning on wandering around the Deep Roads killing darkspawn and seeing if we could find her."

"I see," Bhelen said shortly. He wondered if it was being too optimistic to assume that any part of that was practice killing darkspawn for when they had to end the Blight. "As it happens, a Paragon's vote could decide this election for us. Harrowmont and I have both located the Ortan Thaig and since Harrowmont's men are already searching for her, perhaps you could move up your search?"

"Do you really think she'll support you?" Aunn asked. "You know part of the reason she left was her hatred of politics."

"You doubt you can convince her?" Bhelen asked, his disbelief obvious.

Aunn's eyes flashed. "Oh no, I can," she assured him. "But she's been down there for two years. I doubt they brought enough supplies. If she's alive, she might not be…quite all there. What should I do then?"

That was easy enough.

"Respect her wishes," Bhelen instructed. "By any means necessary. I'll try and hold the vote off until you return."

- -

The Assembly had been in session for hours and things were getting out of hand.

"Lords of the Assembly, I call for order!" Steward Bandelor called loudly. "This discussion gets us nowhere."

"Then why all these delaying tactics?" Bhelen demanded. It had been nearly two days since Aunn had set off chasing ghosts and if he gave her much longer, she might find them. "My father has but one living child to assume the Aeducan throne." He might have stopped at 'one living child' but everyone knew Aunn was back. Fortunately, she was still technically an exile even if her status as Grey Warden meant she could just ignore that and she was far too busy with the Blight to assume the throne even were her legal status worked out.

"Your father made me promise on his deathbed that you would not succeed him," Harrowmont repeated. Honestly, that was the usurper's sole claim to the throne and all he ever said. It was really starting to get old.

"Excuse me, but the Warden has returned," Steward Bandelor announced and Bhelen turned in horror to see his sister moving to the center of the Assembly, accompanied by a human boy, a golem, and a dwarf he vaguely recognized as Branka's husband. She had no Paragon with her, but she did appear to have a crown.

"Well, speak Warden," Bhelen said, hoping he wasn't going to regret this.

"I come bearing a crown forged by the Paragon Branka," Aunn declared boldly, holding the finely crafted ornament.

As Branka's husband related their epic quest to find Branka and her heroic sacrifice to destroy the Anvil of the Void – that they really could have used to drive back the darkspawn but did anyone think about that? – Bhelen watched his sister. Her face gave nothing away and he couldn't help but wonder whether he would need the weapons he had advised the deshyrs on his side to bring after all. Granted, Aunn had said she was on his side but she had never really given a reason and just because she didn't act like she had a grudge didn't mean she was over what happened. As she had often claimed in the past, 'sneak support' was the best kind. If she had given him the vote of the Helmis and the Daces and slaughtered the carta in his name but then gave the crown to Harrowmont, then clearly Aunn supported him but was respecting Branka's wishing in crowning the other candidate.

"I would like to believe Oghren's word," Harrowmont said, sounding a little weary. "But everyone knows the Grey Warden is Bhelen's hireling." From 'if only Aunn were the eldest' to 'Bhelen's hireling' just like that. Politics was certainly a fickle friend.

Steward Bandelor, predictably, ignored this. "Then tell us, Warden, who did Paragon Branka endorse?"

Aunn was silent for a moment, clearly enjoying all of the attention. Finally, she spoke. "Branka chose Bhelen."

"Finally, this farce has ended and I can assume my rightful place on my father's throne," Bhelen said, hoping he didn't sound as relieved as he felt. Making his way down to the floor of the Assembly to get crowned, he resolved to ask Aunn for her reasons for actually handing him the throne the minute he was alone with her. He wasn't entirely sure that he would have done the same had their positions been reversed and he thought he had any chance of becoming Harrowmont's successor.

As he knelt before Steward Bandelor, he couldn't help the pleased smirk that made its way to his lips. After everything, he was finally here. That made everything worth it. _Everything_.

Aunn handed Steward Bandelor the crown and he placed it on the new King's head.

"May the memories find you worthy, first before the Lords of the Assembly," Steward Bandelor said quietly.

Bhelen rose to his feet triumphantly. Trian and his father were most likely rolling in their graves, but he had finally made it and his sister had, against all odds, actually helped. Only one thing could possibly make this moment better.

"Do you acknowledge me as King?" he demanded of the usurper.

Harrowmont hesitated and Bhelen wondered if Harrowmont was strong enough to lead his own rebellion after all. "I…cannot defy a Paragon," he said finally, dropping to his knees. "The throne is yours…King Bhelen."

"Then as my first act as King, I call for this man's execution," Bhelen shouted gleefully. "Guards!"

"I did what you wanted, now where are my troops?" Aunn asked, sounding annoyed and just a little sad. She clearly didn't think he should be enjoying this nearly as much as he was, but then Harrowmont had always liked her and SHE hadn't spent the better part of a month being denied the throne by him.

"I shall return to my palace and begin assembling my generals at once," Bhelen promised. _His_ palace. It really was now. Not bad for a supposedly talentless third son.

- -

"Truly sister, you have surprised me," Bhelen said once Aunn had once more ditched her companions and arrived back at the palace. He'd thought about it and having to watch over his shoulder whenever his sister was around – and thanks to her being a Grey Warden that could be whenever she wanted for the rest of her life – did not sound like something he wanted to deal with on top of the fact that he would shortly be alienating a good portion of the nobility and the warrior caste. Therefore, it was time to verbally acknowledge their relationship. Maybe this would be enough for her. "You have earned the right to rejoin House Aeducan."

"I…" Aunn began weakly before trailing off. Her eyes looked suspiciously shiny.

"Are you crying?" Bhelen asked incredulously. Then again, Aunn always had been overly sentimental when it came to being an Aeducan and about Orzammar itself. Maybe it would be enough.

Aunn glared at him. "No," she snapped. "When are you sending me my troops?"

"When I'm done here I'll have my generals prepare for a mission to the surface," Bhelen vowed. "I want to see this Blight defeated almost as much as you do, after all."

"Almost?" Aunn couldn't help but ask.

Bhelen shrugged. "I'm not obsessed."

Aunn made a face but didn't respond.

"Since you did more than I expected, I'm going to offer a personal reward as well," Bhelen announced, going to his desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a familiar weapon. Since his best case scenario was that Aunn would stay out of the dispute when he first heard she was back and he certainly never expected her to actually track down Branka, it would be difficult for her to _not_ do more than he had expected.

Aunn's jaw dropped as she eyed the maul in his hand. "Is that…?"

"You may recognize this," he confirmed. "Trian used it to crack skulls when he was showing off for Father. I'm sure he'd want you to have it."

Aunn took the maul and held it up to the light to inspect it. "I'm sure he would," she agreed. "Just maybe not quite in that way."

"While I would have eventually taken Father's throne on my own, without your help I would not have taken it so soon nor so smoothly," Bhelen admitted. "So I must ask: why?"

"Why?" Aunn repeated, smiling faintly. "What a strange question. What should I say? Because you're my little brother? Because I still think of it as the Aeducan throne? Because you will make a strong leader? Because you'll live longer than Harrowmont-"

"You needn't let _his_ name cross your lips again," Bhelen felt the need to inform her.

Aunn nodded. "Duly noted. Because Orzammar desperately needs change and I know that, for better or for worse, you'll provide that? Because 'the usurper' had law and tradition on his side and couldn't even get me a trial? Because you outplayed me?"

"Are any of those reasons true?" Bhelen wanted to know.

Aunn shrugged. "Maybe they're all true. Hey, do you think if I stop the Blight they'll make me a Paragon?"

"It probably depends on how public it is," Bhelen mused. "If you can pull off an epic battle and be viewed as a hero by the humans then I would say you're a shoe-in." And he would officially stop having to worry about her getting bored of being a Grey Warden and turning her sights on the throne.

"It'll happen," Aunn claimed. Knowing her, it probably would.

"You should probably know," Bhelen began casually. "After I discovered you were miraculously still alive I had an inquiry done into Trian's murder and after I returned here I instructed Vartag to spread the word of what really happened."

"What did really happen?" Aunn asked carefully, obviously wondering where he was going with this.

"It turns out that the usurper had Trian killed, framed you, and then tried to pin that horrible miscarriage of justice on me," Bhelen said solemnly.

Aunn gasped. "I never knew! He seemed so good and honorable."

"It just goes to show you that even the most seemingly upstanding man can fool you," Bhelen noted.

Aunn shook her head ruefully. "I can't believe Father trusted him."

"He's to be executed for his crimes sometime next week," Bhelen declared. "Will you still be around?"

"Probably not," Aunn told him regretfully. "I do have a Blight to stop, you know."

Bhelen nodded. "I understand. Come back and visit sometime," he invited.

Aunn smiled. "I'll get right on that. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to get down to the Shaperate and see if Shaper Czibor remembers me yet…"

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